Lesson in Humility: My 8th Birthday

May 5, 1993: I turned 8 years old. My grandma bought me the Rollerblades I wanted. My mom bought me my first CD, MeatLoaf's Bat Out of Hell II. I probably ate more of that cake that I should admit. That (Royal Pain purple!) plastic Slinky broke at some point later.

My grandma found this photo last weekend and sent it to me. I was so excited that I almost cried. The thought process went something like this:

"Aaaahhh! Dorky fat kid! Ahhh! No one must ever see this!"

"Holy crap, that's when I got my Rollerblades. That's pretty darn cool. And I forgot about those MagicEye post—"

"THAT'S MY MEATLOAF ALBUM ON MY ARM! I DIDN'T KNOW I GOT IT FOR THE SAME BIRTHDAY AS MY FIRST REAL SKATES! THIS IS THE COOLEST THING EVER!"

As you probably already know, the album on my chubby-kid arm inspired my most recent tattoo.

It's the circle of liiiiiiiiiiiiife. It rules us allllllllllllll. Through faith and hoooooope. Through faith and loooooooooooooooove. 'Til we fiiiiiiind our plaaaaaaaaaace. On the path unwiiiiiindddddddding.

The Lion King came out the next year, but seeing this photo just made me feel like my childhood self and my adult self came full circle somehow.